Hunt

Wraith decoded the text message from her contact, a DEA agent. “Got them,” she said.

Rota finished her chicken taco and licked her fingers. “How close?”

“Close,” said Wraith.

Her hair now had braids like Rota, but hers were on the opposite side of her head. Rota had wanted to dye the ends, and Wraith settled on crimson fading into purple. It looked stunning.

“They are heading to Vegas, but taking side trips into the Arizona countryside.”

“Why?” asked Rota, finishing her Coke. “Nothing out there but desert. And a big hole in the ground, farther north.”

“Wish they were at the Grand Canyon,” said Wraith. “We’ve got contacts there. Paiutes and Dine, and Hopi. No, they’re farther south, about an hour up the road. They’re taking back roads, and I think we’ve got them triangulated. They’re either on the 96 or the 97. They put someone in a cistern north of Prescott. Hearing they’re on bikes; she’s on a white and green Indian with leather saddlebags, him a Harley Lowrider.”

“Let’s roll,” said Rota. They threw away their trash, and they were gone.

They caught up with them in Bagdad, Arizona. The Indian was at a gas station. The Lowrider was closer in, at the convenience store. The buildings around them were low and white, surrounded by scrub brush. There was a ridge that seemed to be holding back the town from going anywhere.

Rota went into the convenience store, while Wraith topped up both bikes. She got some sodas, long-necks.

David Rayalos Talamantes had striking whiskey eyes, close-cropped dark brown hair, and a mustache and beard. His ears were flat against his head, unlike his father’s. He was wearing a short-sleeved denim shirt and jeans, with square-toed alligator boots in black and yellow. Celia Villa Cantos had red hair that went to her waist, where she caught it in a clip at the small of her back. Her gray, leather jacket screamed money, not homicidal maniac. It had ribbed sleeves and shoulders that snapped at the neck. She wore a black silk top under the jacket and black, designer jeans. Her eyes were bright with something that just wasn’t sane.

Rota paid for the sodas, then turned to Celia. Rota jutted out her chin. “Mamacita,” she said. “That’s one fine classic Indian,” she said.

Celia jutted out her own chin. “You ride Harleys? You in a gang?”

“Mama chola,” said Rota, using the Mexican street slang for a female gangbanger. “We are our own gang.”

“You a chola?” asked Celia.

“We do things,” said Rota. “Together, separate. Mostly together. The money is better together.”

“What kind of things?” asked Celia.

“What needs doing,” said Rota, putting one cola in the pocket of her vented leather jacket, and popping the top off the other. She let her eyes go flat and dangerous, for just a moment.

“We need doing,” said Celia.

“Mamacita,” said David. “We don’t know them.”

“Mi vida,” said Celia. “We’re doing business. Don’t interrupt.” She held up a crimson fingernail. “Get me some chocolate,” she said. “With nuts.” He huffed, turned, and went down the aisle.

Rota stepped closer. “If you have a job, we can do it,” she said.

“We?” asked Celia.

“Mi corazon,” said Rota, pointing her chin at Wraith. “I do knives, she does guns and knives. We like taking out the trash.”

“She any good?” asked Celia.

“She can shoot the leaf off a tree. Used to be a sniper. Wore some funny suit in the desert.”

“Ghillie suit,” said Celia. “Hides you from those looking for you. She Ex-Army?”

“Yeah. Didn’t last long. Not so good at taking orders from pendejos, you know what I mean?”

Celia laughed. “Si, I know. You looking for work?”

“Yes, but we come as a set. We’re better together, more focused.”

“It’s not distracting working with your corazon?”

Rota smiled slowly. “It is distracting working with yours?” Celia laughed. “Business is business.”

“Es verdad,” said Celia. “Can you take orders?”

“From a woman, no problem,” said Rota. “Women have sense. Not guided by their dicks.”

“Fuck,” said Celia. “You’re perfect. How many kills you got?”

“Only ten,” said Rota. “I’m better at cleanup. Wraith can kill five at once. I’ve seen her do it.”

Celia raised her eyebrows. “Impressive. And what do you use to clean up?”

“The desert can take a lot of bodies. Some bleach, gotta clean out those traps. Drano works for that. Disposable gloves. Then, go. Or, even better, make it look like one person shot another one, or some random gang thing. That works a lot.” Rota took another swig of the soda.

“Fuck,” said Celia. “You guys know your stuff.”

“We get paid, we do the job right. Quick, clean, efficient.”

“I can see that,” said Celia. “How much?”

“We got a daily rate and a job rate,” said Rota. “Daily rate means we ride with you, do what you want us to do. Job rate means we go where we’re pointed. Includes significant cleanup.”

“Daily, for five days. That include wet work and cleanup?”

“Absolutely,” said Rota. “A thousand a day, each.”

“Done,” said Celia. “Go tell your woman.”

“Cash first,” said Rota. “Then, we ride.”

Celia counted out the money. Rota nodded and gave Wraith a signal. Wraith nodded, a cruel smile coming across her lips.

“Your woman is a little scary,” said David, coming over with a box of wrapped chocolates for his woman.

“She is the best there is,” said Rota, proudly. “You lead, we follow.”

“Si,” said Celia. “No point wasting our time. Our next stop is Wagoner. We have a contact there with loose lips.”

“Not for long,” said Rota. “Wait ‘till you see my woman dance.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” said Celia.

They took off toward Wagoner. It was a quiet ghost town, buildings falling down. There were a few ranches. They came to a falling-down building with a red roof. David stayed on his bike, looking off into the desert. Celia got off her bike, and so did Rota. A man came out, whippet-thin, ears sticking out.

“Celia!” he said, smiling hugely. “What can I do for you?”

“Die,” said Celia. She shot him before Rota had time to react, in the gut. “Pendejo,” she said.

Rota pulled out her gun. “Shall I?”

Wraith slipped off her bike and shot Celia in her crazy head. Rota shot David as he pulled out his own gun. She then ran to Celia and realized the assassin was dead, eyes staring into nothingness, blood pooling under her head. She stepped toward the man Celia had shot, who was holding his guts and mewling. Wraith reached into her saddlebag, then threw Rota the first aid kit, and called it in. Wraith then ran to David. The bike had toppled with him as he fell; he was pinned, eyes rolling, weapon on the ground by his hand. She’d gotten him in the throat.

David out of the corner of his eye. “Beetches,” he said.

“Seriously?” said Wraith. “You’ve been riding around with a serial killer.” He breathed his last and was still. “Waste of a perfectly good Harley,” said Wraith.

“A little help here,” said Rota. They packed the wound, and literally tied him to Rota.

They sped toward the closest hospital in Prescott Valley. They met the ambulance on the way. Wraith flagged them down, then blocked them with her bike.

“What the fuck, lady?” said the driver, hopping down.

“I’m the one that called,” she said. “Your patient is tied to Rota’s back.”

A tiny woman came out of the other side of the bus. She quickly had a gurney out, and she helped untie and transfer the patient. They moved their bikes to the side of the road. The ambulance sped off.

“That’s not coming out,” complained Rota, looking at her jacket. “Can we keep the Indian?”

“Nope,” said Wraith. “But I will keep an eye out for the auction, and get it for you if you want it.”

“My girlfriend would love it,” said Rota.

“I’ll talk to my superiors,” said Wraith. “They may sell it to me directly. Then, you can have it. You had my back.”

Rota snorted. “Of course. I do. You’re a Valkyrie now, a sister. We have each other’s backs, now and forever.”

“We did it,” said Wraith, “with the shield, not on it.” She reached into her saddlebags for a bottle of water. Rota took out her own, and they drank. She slipped her credentials out of her hidden compartment as a sheriff’s deputy vehicle sped toward them.

“Be a while ‘till we get our guns back,” she said. “Sorry about that.”

“Get me the bike, and the leather and the gun will be a distant memory.”

Wraith snorted. “One is worth considerably more than the others.”

Rota smiled wickedly. “What’s money between sisters?”

It took way too long to go over what happened. The deputy, a short black-haired good ‘ol boy, didn’t comprehend why Wraith didn’t arrest Celia and David at the gas station.

“Great idea,” snorted Wraith. “A woman who likes to kill people with guns at a gas station. If she missed the clerk or the little girl in the back, she could have winged a gas tank. Then, boom.”

“What little girl?” asked Deputy Terrance.

“Pull the tapes,” said Rota. “She was two aisles over. She and her mom were skinny, wore old-fashioned dresses.”

Wraith sent several coded texts while she and Rota were questioned several times. Deputy Terrance’s boss, a huge black man named Sheriff Donner. He took one look at Wraith’s badge, quickly ran through her story, and sent them on their way, sadly minus their guns. They could hear his big, booming voice as they got on their bikes.

“Deputy Terrance,” he said, “next time you see DEA on a badge, get their story and send them on their way. Their own people will investigate them.” Wraith had to smile.

They swung by the DEA office in Phoenix. “Good work,” said Special Agent in charge, Gregorio Fornas. “Wish you could have dragged one of them alive, but it does save us from having to prosecute her. We’re still finding all her kill sites. That Indian was recognizable; eventually, we would have gotten to her if you hadn’t been protecting your witnesses.”

“Need a favor,” said Wraith. “When her Indian goes up for auction, I’d like a crack at it first. I had help, and I’d like to pay that help back.”

“I can put in a word,” said Fornas. “Quite willing, in fact.”

She put Rota in a conference room to text her sisters on her phone, and let Fornas do a quick check on her story while she did the paperwork. Fornas ordered food for them, and they consumed pulled pork sandwiches and chips and sodas. Fornas left Rota to mess with her phone while Wraith finished the last of the paperwork.

Wraith called Ivy. “Got David and Celia. We’re still looking into the lawyer. We have to nip the source of the orders, then you can stand down.”

“Thank you,” said Ivy, “we’ll keep a guard for now until we move our patients.”

“How are they?” asked Wraith.

“Fucked up,” said Ivy. “Ace’s shoulder is a mess, and Lily is heartbroken over both her brother and the baby.”

“All this pain because some people don’t care how they make their money, or how many lives they damage and destroy,” said Wraith. “Good for my job security, terrible for the rest of the world.”

“Thanks for taking out another Talamantes,” said Ivy. “Did we get all of them?”

“No,” said Wraith. “There are some more bastards, supposedly not having anything to do with the cartel.”

Ivy snorted. “Doubt that.”

“Me too,” said Wraith. “Anyway, once we crack the lawyer and smash him like a grape, you can take a breath and recover from this nonsense.”

“Smash him like a grape,” said Ivy. “Sounds great.”

“We have a nefarious plan,” said Wraith.

“Excellent,” said Ivy, “if we can help implement it, let me know.”

“I’ll let you know, but I think we’re good.”

“Thank you,” said Ivy.

“We closed a lot of cases,” said Wraith. “Except for the body count, and that’s because the crazy bitch started shooting at an individual in front of me.”

“Who was he?” asked Ivy.

“Drug mule,” said Wraith. “The sheriff just texted me that there were hidden panels in a rusted-out car in the covered parking. They tested positive for drug residue. He’s expected to live; we’ll get names from him when he wakes up.”

“Fuck,” said Ivy. “In the most remote places in Arizona.”

“The tentacles of the beast,” said Wraith. “Keeps me employed, but I’d rather feel like we’re making some progress. Cut off one tentacle, get twelve.”

“You took out a serial killer today,” said Ivy. “Count that as a win.”

“Still finding bodies,” said Wraith. “Apparently, there’s a lot of cisterns out there.”

“She wasn’t worth the price of the bullet,” said Ivy.

“One crazy bitch,” agreed Wraith. “Gotta go, have a Valkyrie to escort home.”

“Have a good ride,” said Ivy, “see you when we get back to Vegas.”

“Sonic on me,” said Wraith, and she closed the call. She stood, stretched, and went to find herself a Valkyrie to take home.

They met with the other two in Boulder City. Wraith locked up her helmet and took a slow walk to Saber, her hips going from side to side.

“Damn, woman,” said Saber. “Missed you.” They kissed, leaning up against the bike.

Rota strode to Skuld, and they clasped wrists, then held each other’s necks, and touched foreheads. “Success?” asked Skuld.

“I shot one,” Rota said.

“First kill,” said Skuld.

“In battle,” said Rota. “And, I shot him in the neck.”

“You’ll practice,” said Skuld. “Have Wraith teach you, actually. She’s a dead shot.”

Rota nodded. “I will learn.”

“Next time,” said Skuld, poking her in the skull, then the sternum, “Head shot or chest. But, you did well.”

“Of course, I did,” said Rota. “I’m a Valkyrie.” Their kiss, when it came, lasted so long that Wraith and Saber took a walk along the beach, hands in each other’s back pockets.

On their walk, Wraith and Saber stopped to kiss, walked some more, then kissed again. Skuld and Rota eventually caught up with them. They pitched tents well away from one another, made a fire, and ate grilled fish and potato salad and s’mores by the light of the moon. Wraith and Saber told stories about busts and life on the road. Skuld talked about being both a metal band member —drums and guitar, occasionally bass, and a coder and mixer for a studio. Adding teaching defense classes to police and the general public. Rota was a climbing trail guide, helping people learn to climb, from easy to impossible rock faces.

“Damn!” said Wraith. “You make me look like a lightweight.”

“You’re a crack shot,” said Skuld. “Teach Rota.”

“Anytime I’m not neck deep in alligators,” said Wraith.

Saber snorted. “We’re almost always neck deep in alligators.”

“The little ones are kinda cute,” said Rota. “Nasty boy David’s alligator boots really pissed me off. So, I shot him.”

“That’ll teach them, alligator-boot-wearing guys,” said Skuld.

“Yeah,” said Wraith. “Such a waste. Now he’s dead. Some alligator died for nothing. Those boots will probably get donated to the Salvation Army.”

“Well,” said Saber. “Now some homeless guy’s gonna be wearing thousand-dollar boots.”

Skuld sang and Rota joined in, the Pink song about being fucking perfect. Wraith started Fight Song by Rachael Patten, Confident by Demi Lavato, and they went into Meredith Brooks,’ Bitch. They ended with Beyonce’s Grown Woman.

“My God,” said Saber. “I feel so emasculated.”

“We gotta stop,” said Wraith. “Need to keep his parts, because they’re my toys for later.”

Skuld grinned. “On that note, we’d better go to bed.”

Rota stood, took Skuld’s hand, and helped her stand. They walked back to the tent, long strides eating up the ground.

They zipped the sleeping bags together, made pillows out of rolled clothes. They came together, unzipping leather with fast, confident hands. Their black and silver T-shirts were emblazoned with a woman on a horse, breastplate polished, sword held high. They took them off, and carefully rolled them up. Rota’s bra was black lace, lined with pink, and Skuld’s was all black. They stroked, licked, put fingers in each other’s mouths. Rota unhooked Skuld’s bra, then held the spill of breasts in her hands. Skuld’s breasts were round, with dark, erect nipples. Rota pinched them in her fingers, made them rise. She bent forward, and sucked each nipple, making Skuld gasp.

Skuld pulled down Rota’s underwear and thrust her fingers deep inside. Rota gasped and moaned, and bucked into the fingers, driving them deeper inside her. Skuld broke open the front snap of her bra with one hand, grasping Rota’s small breasts, then began ruthlessly kissing and sucking them. Rota arched her back, screaming. She came, gasping, sweat breaking out in between her breasts, with wetness flowing over Skuld’s fingers. Skuld made her come again, and again, screaming and gasping. Finally, Skuld took out wet wipes, wiped her fingers, wiped Rota’s wetness, and kissed her deep and slow.

Then, it was Rota’s turn, pulling off Skuld’s thong, driving her fingers into her, again and again. She bent her fingers, found the spot inside, and made Skuld groan. She pulled back on Skuld’s hair, kissed her throat, making the silver feather dangling from her ear dance. Skuld came, driving herself into Rota’s fingers. Their bodies were perfect, silhouettes of silver in the moonlight. She came again, again. Then, she took her fingers out and cleaned them both up with a wet wipe. They held each other, sitting up, legs wrapped around each other, fingers wrapped in each other’s hair, their kisses deep and slow. They went deep then, deep inside, stopping to clasp each other’s necks, touch foreheads, and stare into each other’s eyes. They slid into the sleeping bag, still holding on, entwining once more. They slid into sleep, still grasping one another in the dark.

In the morning, Saber and Wraith were still kissing. Saber ran his fingers up and down her leg. Wraith bit his lip, stroked the back of his neck, dug her claws into his tight biceps. He groaned and stroked her from her neck to her buttocks. She moaned and kissed him deeply.

He fiddled with the ends of her hair, smiling. “Love the new color. Candy lady.”

“What kind of candy?” she asked, smiling back.

“Cinnamon,” he said. “You are one spicy lady.”

“Shut up,” she said, running her claws down from his neck to his groin.

He groaned, kissed her. “I’m not sure I can do it again,” he whispered in her ear.

“Shut up,” she said again, moving her fingers to just under his balls. He groaned again, and found himself (despite his exhaustion), beginning to rise again.

She used claws, lips, and teeth; grinding his emotions into a keen razor edge, based on more than a little fear as she got very close to the family jewels with her teeth. She slid on a condom, slid herself onto him. They moved slowly, his fingers in her hair, her teeth on his neck. He came in one long gasp, ready to do whatever she needed to make her come, but she was there, too, on the edge. Magnificently, she came, gasping and wriggling into his neck, her teeth doing one last nibble. They held onto each other, gasping, and she slid off of him, reaching blindly for the few wet wipes left. She wiped them both down, and they fell as if they were timber, onto the sleeping bag.

“Woman,” he said, “you’re trying to kill me.”

“Absolutely,” she said. “You’ve found my secret. Sex kills, you know.”

He laughed into her neck. “You won’t get anything, you know. No life insurance to speak of. We’re not married yet.”

She stilled under his hands. She grasped the back of his head. “If you marry me, understand that this is a freedom. You can walk away at any time. Just know, if you go, I’m going to walk away, too. If you stay, you’ll have my love, my life, my all. I will breathe breaths with you. I will walk the same path, as much as I can, but never in your same steps, and never behind you. We’re equals, or we are nothing. Choose. Choose wisely. I have one of the strongest hearts. If you break it, I will survive. But, if you do, you lose the best woman you have ever had, or will have, now and forever.”

He looked into her eyes, willing himself not to make a mistake due to exhaustion. “I will love and cherish you, and wait for you if you go, and keep the light on for you. I will never walk ahead of you, always beside you. I will be here for you, every day, now and forever.” She smiled, and his heart stopped with her beauty. “Let’s get married,” he said.

“Yes,” she said.

“Love you,” he said.

“Always,” she said.

By the time they made it out of the tent, the Valkyries had already stowed their tent.

“Good morning,” said Rota. Wraith stepped forward, and they did the Valkyrie neck embrace.

They touched foreheads. “You can ride with me anytime,” said Wraith.

“Teach me,” said Rota.

“I will,” said Wraith. “Sisters always.”

“Always,” said Rota.

Skuld came up. She clasped Wraith’s arm. “I’ll ride with you anytime,” she said.

“And I with you.”

She turned to Wraith. “Sister,” she said.

“Always,” said Wraith. They did the head clasp and forehead touch. “We came back with our shields,” said Wraith.

“Not on them,” said Skuld.

“I ride later,” said Wraith, letting her go. “I have a second.”

Both Rota and Skuld clasped her arms. “Sister,” said Skuld. “That is good.”

“Good riding,” said Rota.

“Good riding,” said Wraith. They walked out with their packs, filled up their saddlebags, and left.

“So,” said Wraith, as she put her arm around his waist, and Saber put an arm around her shoulder, “should we have more sex?”

Saber laughed so loud, people could have heard him on the other side of the lake. “Woman, I can’t even roll up the sleeping bag. We’re sleeping in.”

“Fuck,” said Wraith. “I thought I’d get one more out of you.”

“Woman,” said Saber. “I can’t marry you if you kill me.”

They kissed and went to fall into bed as the sun kissed the top of the tent.

Vegas Time

It took two more days, but eventually, Ace was cleared to move, by ambulance, to Vegas. There was a private recovery hospital with a private wing the Iron Knights and law enforcement used to hide people. The patients were referred to by number, not name; everyone was “Smith” or “Jones.” So, Mr. Jones with shoulder immobilization and Mrs. Jones, recovering from a miscarriage, were in a special, private room. It was set up more like an actual bedroom, complete with a double hospital bed, a little sitting area with a couch and two recliners, and three cots lined up against the wall like sentinels.

Ace and Lily settled into the bed. They were allowed to wear either scrubs or sweats. Ace went for ancient sweats and Lily for maroon scrubs. They got situated and were both given pain shots to deal with pain from the two-and-a-half-hour trip from Vegas. They slept, and Numa brought them potato bacon soup and crusty bread and butter.

“Thank you so much,” said Lily, “I need real food.”

“I agree,” said Numa. “You’ll be able to move long before him, so let me show you what’s what. The fridge is half size. The microwave will take a whole chicken. I’ll keep the casserole contingent from bringing you tuna surprise.”

Lily barked out a laugh. “Bless you!” she said. “We’d throw that crap out, and it would get wasted. Probably piss someone off, too.”

Numa laughed. “Probably. I’ll be in charge of the fridge until you start giving me orders. We’ll start with soups and bread. We have tomato basil and grilled cheese, all ready to grill on this little grill plate, here, tomorrow. We’ve also got minestrone, clam chowder, and chicken tortilla. It’s all labeled in single serve containers. There’s more of those rolls, and biscuits in a can. And real butter, and goat cheese from the ladies, oh, and crackers.”

“Bless the goats,” said Lily.

“Yaaa,” bleated Ace, proving he was following along just fine. Lily and Numa laughed. “I also cheated and put frozen pizzas and burritos in the freezer.”

“Thank God for frozen food,” said Ace.

“Word,” said Lily, making Numa laugh.

“I even left you ice cream. The doctor said you can have the fruit bars, and I went to the frozen yogurt place and got single servings of every flavor they had. I’m partial to the peach-chocolate swirl myself.”

“Peanut butter rocks,’ said Lily.

“It does,” said Numa. “You’ve also got fruit juices, water, and milk.”

“Bless you,” said Lily.

“I wish I could reverse time,” said Numa. “I am just happy we could do something for you. The kids grew all the fruits and veggies in labeled containers in there. Feel free to freeze and reheat.”

“Tell everyone ‘hi’ for me,” said Lily.

“Will do,” said Numa. “The little fridge next to your bed has drinks, and snack packets in a basket on top.”

“I think I love you,” said Lily, in a pathetic over-the-top voice. Everyone laughed.

“If you need anything, buzz Kevin. He’s your nurse. But otherwise, here’s the remote.” Numa handed over the remote control to the flat-screen TV, to Ace.

“I have the power,” said Ace, making a muscle with his good arm. Lily laughed.

“Good night,” said Numa.

“Night,” said Ace and Lily. She shut the door.

“Thank fuck we’re finally alone,” said Ace.

“Whatever shall we do with our time, Mr. Smith?”

“What do you want to do, Mrs. Smith?”

“Watch Netflix,” she said, and she snatched the remote. He laughed and put his good arm around her.

The “bad” arm still had an IV with a steady drip of medication. He laid back, stunned at his weakness. He was exhausted, and all he’d done was wake up, get checked up and checked out, and moved in an ambulance to the new facility. Then eat. He felt Lily lay on his shoulder, and the first bar of the show she’d picked came on. He slept.

Numa kept vigil. She’d just pretended to leave. She had them on a monitor, mostly for protection, and partially to keep track of their needs. She could turn the monitor off, of course, if sex entered the picture, but they were both in too much pain for that, both physically and mentally.

She had her own little room next door, complete with bed, TV, bathroom, and a little sitting room of her own. She had plenty of wool to card, now that the “goat girls” had rescued alpacas, or “half-size llamas,” to raise. Some idiot had nearly starved them. They were recuperating quickly, their soft fur growing back.

Nantan was more than happy to buy their fertilizer for killer compost he used for the potted plants. One had been shorn, and Numa had a lovely bag of soft llama fur to work with. Nantan grew hay for them, and they were happy and very docile. Aquene and Bianca were over the moon with alpaca love and were happy to help Jaci and Nova with them. The bags of fiber had been washed, and she had separated the coarser leg and belly fiber for rugs from the softer stuff. She carded the softer fiber and spun it on a small spinning wheel. She listened to her favorite podcasts while she spun.

When Ace and Lily were both asleep, she slipped into their room, turned off Netflix, and made sure they were covered by a sheet and a light blanket. She made sure they had plenty of water to drink in their cups with straws. The nurse slipped in to check the monitors and the flow of pain meds, nodding at Numa. He was carefully vetted, a wiry but strong Ex-Army nurse named T.J., with battlefield experience. The Iron Nights had finally ended their courtship with him successfully, and he was the proud owner of a nice Harley Lowrider. T.J. had wiry black hair, dark eyes, and dark skin tinted with red. Numa wondered which parent was Native, and from which nation, and which was of African or Caribbean descent.

T.J. followed Numa back to her room. “Love working here,” he said. Numa gave him a cup of coffee, which he accepted gracefully. “Less hospital, more homely. It’s like a plane. Why can’t all the seats be like business class, with some pods for the truly elite? Must people be stacked like cordwood? Same here. Why not an actual living space? Doesn’t make it less sterile.”

“I agree,” said Numa.

“They’re fine,” he said. “What they need is rest, pain meds, and a long, slow recovery.”

“We may need to hit Ace in the head with a rock to make that work,” said Numa.

“He has a wife to protect,” said T.J. “They used that on me when I lost the foot. I needed to heal to be a good husband for her. Now, I move nearly as well, even with big, heavy patients. Doesn’t slow me down, even with Tyler.”

“Who is Tyler?” asked Numa, sipping her own coffee.

“My son. He’s two, and a handful. Driving Jack, my husband, nuts. He is helpless during the temper tantrums.”

“Did you tell Tyler that he has big emotions, and he should just wait for them to go away?”

“I did,” said T.J., “but, he has a two-year-old’s sense of time. Everything is happening right now.”

“I’ve been riding herd on a ton of teens,” said Numa. “Kind of the same thing. Huge emotions, lots of drama over mostly nothing. They learn fast, though. We’ve got a farm, hydroponics, rescue horses.” She laughed. “I have a trading post on the Paiute res. The teens are providing the labor while I’m here, with my cousin Mica riding herd on them. Some of our former graduates are raising goats and now alpacas.”

“Ah,” he said. “So, the spinning…”

“So, the spinning,” she said. She pointed to a little webcam. “I’m walking them through on video, step by step, on how to card and spin. Nothing else to do, anyway. Those girls are going to be responsible for the next ones. The alpacas should have been shaven before summer. They’re rescues. We lost quite a bit of fiber due to matting. Idiots who had them before were negligent. Makes me mad enough to spit.” She laughed. “They spit at each other, you know. Don’t want to be nearby when they do it.”

T.J. smiled. “Here’s my cell number,” he said, handing her a card. “Or, press the call button in your room. The cell is for just talking. My partner is a weaver.”

“Dine?” asked Numa, the word for Navajo.

“Yes, both my mom and I are from St. Kitts. She’s got the most beautiful voice. Talking or singing, it’s like music. My dad took one look at her and fell like a stone.”

“Smart man,” said Numa. “Your partner may wish to buy the leg and belly fiber for rugs. It’s been washed, carded, and conditioned.” She handed up the bag. He stroked the fleece.

“Lovely,” he said.

“It’s not the highest quality. In a year, when all our animals have had better nutrition, it will be better. So, half the price of thirty dollars a pound, and that’s one and a half pounds.”

He took the money out of his wallet and handed it to her. He took the bag. “Don’t you want me to spin it?” she asked.

He laughed. “And interrupt her audiobook fun? Hell, no.” He stood up from the couch. “Have fun, and get hold of me at once if you see anything on your nanny cam there I should know.”

“I will, T.J.,” she said. He smiled and left quietly to check on his other patients, with his new bag of fleece in hand.

Ghost and Killa replaced her in the morning. She rested while they determined which lesbian couple would be the recipients of their surrogacy.

“Already got a few lined up,” said Killa, proudly.

“Good to know,” said Numa, putting a mask over her face and noise-canceling headphones in her ears. She was out like a light.

Killa and Ghost went next door to make breakfast for the couple when they started stirring. Killa helped Lily to the bathroom and into the shower. Once she got Lily out, she helped her put on new underwear and scrubs. She then blow-dried Lily’s hair and braided it in a loose braid to make it easier to manage. Lily was pale and sweating after the shower, so Ghost helped Killa half-carry her back to the bed.

T.J. gave Ace a sponge bath while Lily was in the shower, and he munched on a breakfast burrito as the doctor breezed in to check on the patients. Killa cut Lily’s breakfast burrito in half and put the other half back in the refrigerator. She was right; Lily ate little and fell asleep after her exam.

Ace groaned as the doctor looked him over. “The fracture is healing nicely,” he said, in a singsong voice. “And the antibiotics are working.”

He moaned. “I hate my life.”

“You not dead,” said Ghost.

“Good point,” said Ace. “And neither is my wife.”

“An’ Katya gonna have a baby for you. So, you gotta lie still and get well so’s you can pick up da kid when it come,” said Killa.

“Another good point,” said Ace. “I just hate being weak, and the pain sucks.”

“We can get ‘em up da meds,” said Ghost. “You jus’ need to get zoned out and sleep, like ya wife.”

“Another good idea,” said Ace. Ghost went out to call the doctor back in, and the dose was upped a little. That, along with more sleep meds, helped Ace fall back to sleep.

“Thought dey wouldn’t sleep,” said Ghost. “Now we gotta make a decision.”

“Les’ call da judge,” said Killa.

“We don’ talk all nice,” said Ghost.

“What did Bonnie say ‘bout dat?” asked Killa.

“We don’ crawl before nobody,” said Ghost. “’Kay. I call ‘em.”

Their surrogate broker called the judge for them. They got a call back twenty minutes later. “This is Judge Jannie Renault. Am I speaking to Ghost or Killa?”

“You don’ mind using our Nighthawks names?” asked Ghost. “An’ I be Ghost.”

“I am familiar with street names,” said the judge. “And, I am quite familiar with the Nighthawks. They tend to help us take out the trash, so to speak.”

Ghost shuddered. “De gang, the one dat abused dose dogs. Dey terrible. We rescued some of ‘em dogs.”

“Good to know,” said the judge, “and, you be what you are. We’re hiring you for your womb, not your grammar. I understand you’re both mechanics for the Nighthawks?”

“Work under Bonnie, she’s certified,” said Killa, into the speaker. “I’m Killa, but I not kill nobody. Kinda a joke to get us out of a si-chu-a-tion.”

“Good to know,” said the judge.

“Kind o’ ‘prentices,” said Ghost. “We put together Harleys from da kits, or make custom bikes. Bonnie got allus wearing masks an’ mechanic’s gloves now, sez we gotta be safe even before gettin’ knocked up.”

“Good woman,” said the judge. “Why are you doing this?”

“We wanna help other lesbians, and we not ready for da kids,” said Ghost. “We o’ready got dem underfoot at da club.”

“The homeschool,” said the judge. “I heard about that.”

“We done taught dem how to braid da hair. We creatin’ a course on mechanics for da older ones.” Ghost stopped. “We was worried, not done no teachin.’ But Bonnie say, dey gotta learn, so we gotta teach. Killa better wit dem than me.”

“What are you going to do with the money we pay you for being surrogates?” asked the judge.

“Found us a real sweet condo, near the club,” said Ghost. “Fixer-upper. Dem methheads be dere, holes in da walls. Da home inspector say it be still good, jus’ need a lotta work.”

“We real-good at da work,” said Killa. “Bonnie say, slackers get nowhere, we get somewhere.”

“Where is the condo?” Ghost gave her the address. They heard typing as she looked it up. “Reasonable price,” said the judge. “Here’s the deal. I gotta meet you, with my wife. I will say this. If we meet, and it all works out, if you have two babies for my wife and I, we’ll buy the house for you, free and clear.”

“We can do dat,” said Ghost. “We can eben get pregnant at da same time.”

“Let’s think about that one,” said the judge. “We’ve already got embryos ready to go, and they plant more than one at the same time. Don’t want to end up with five at once.”

Ghost laughed. “Our sista Katya jus’ had two. She tole us she made fo’ havin’ em. Popped ‘em out de minute de midwife showed up at de hospital. Ivy almost had ta play catch. We good wit’ more than one. Da doctor say we be doin’ fine.”

“So, no drugs, alcohol, other substances?” asked the judge.

“Bonnie usually lets us have a beer sometime, but she says, fucked up mechanic be de one wit’ no fingers.”

“We already had no beers for a week,” said Killa. “We know da drill. Goin’ off da cola, dat be a little harder.”

“Excellent,” said the judge. “I’ll feed you anything you want, tonight. Seven okay?”

“How ‘bout the Sonic near da club?” asked Ghost.

“Perfect,” said the judge, “my wife, Sondra, she loves their cheese sticks. See you then.”

“See ya, judge,” said Ghost.

Ghost and Killa hugged each other. “We gonna do dis?” asked Ghost.

“Free condo?” asked Killa. “Hell to da yes.”

They stole pizza pockets for lunch out of the fridge, and some juice. Ace slept on as Lily woke up. Killa helped her to the bathroom, then Lily ate the rest of her breakfast burrito and drank lime water. She watched a comedy, received more pain meds, and zonked back out.

Nantan took the afternoon shift. “Thought you was busy wif da teens,” said Ghost.

“Already picked everything, believe it or not,” he said. “They’re on rabbit and rooster duty. Just got a chicken coop. They chose a mix of breeds. They also just got a rabbit hutch and are raising angora rabbits.”

“Why da rabbits?” asked Killa.

“They have beautiful, expensive fur that they molt four times a year. You collect and sell the fur, and it doesn’t hurt the rabbits. They’re docile, and the kids love them. We got four, and we expect to fill the hutch before long. It’s more like a rabbit condo, actually.”

“We good wif da dogs,” said Ghost. “We gotta go. Got a three-wheeler to weld, and a judge to see.”

“A judge?” asked Nantan.

“We gonna be surrogates,” said Ghost, proudly.

Nantan nodded. “If things go as well as they seem to be going with my boyfriend, in a couple years if you’re still doing it, we may be hiring you.”

“We work wif da lesbians who can’t have da kids,” said Ghost. “Maybe we work wif da gay guys later.”

“We’ll think ‘bout it,” said Killa. They hugged Nantan and left.

* * *

Ghost and Killa told Bonnie about the judge, and the offer to pay off the condo. “I’ll spot you for the down payment,” she said. “You should have most of it if you’re saving like I taught you.”

“Yeah,” said Killa. “Got most of it. But we don’ qualify for no loan.”

“Don’t need one. Just get a contract from the judge with cash payments to show the buyer. If that doesn’t work, I’ll co-sign. You pay it off, and get my name taken off of it.”

Ghost and Killa both teared up. “You would do dat fo us?” asked Ghost.

“Why the fuck not?” asked Bonnie. “Now, get that silver three-wheeler built. Now. Owner’s having a cow waiting on it.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” said Killa and Ghost.

They took a snack break around three, then went back to their tiny apartment around six, to shower. They made it to Sonic in plenty of time. They sat down at a little table and ordered their drinks.

The judge was a tall, gamine woman, with short gray hair and huge black glasses that made her green eyes look huge. Her wife, Sondra, had kind brown eyes and wavy brown hair that tended to fall into her eyes. Both women spoke clearly. Sondra waved her hands when she spoke.

“I can’t thank you enough for this. I had cervical cancer, and had everything removed to keep it from spreading,” said the judge.

“I had fibroid tumors that keep growing. It is too dangerous for me to have a baby. We went through an ectopic pregnancy and two miscarriages,” said Sondra, with tears in her eyes.

“That sucks,” said Ghost. “That’s why we wanna do this.”

“And da condo,” said Killa. “We bein’ honest.”

“Excellent,” said the judge. “When do you want to get started?”

“De doctor at da fertility clinic say we ready in two days.”

Judge Jannie and Sondra clenched hands, looked at each other, and smiled. “We’re good with that,” said the judge.

“We ovulatin’ at the same time, ‘cause we married and live together,” said Ghost. “You want both of us or one of us?”

“Ghost, let’s start with you,” said Jannie. “We can go to Killa here if that doesn’t take.”

“Having four or five babies would be fun,” said the judge. “But all at once, not so much.”

Killa laughed. “No, but we ready if ya do.”

The judge smiled. “Okay. Let’s eat, and call the broker.”

“I’m too excited to eat,” said Sondra. “Let’s take it to go.” She stood, and hugged both of them. “You’re doing an amazing thing,” she said. “You’re worth twelve condos.” She laughed. “But we only have money for one.”

“We sign da paperwork tomorrow,” said Ghost. “Den we go to da clinic, and I get knocked up.”

Killa laughed. “Wish it were me too, but we gotta do dis one at a time.”

The judge hugged them too, and they went to order their food. The judge got on the phone, and the broker texted Killa with the news. Killa texted back to go ahead. Killa and Ghost waited until the women drove off to order their wings and cheese sticks. Then, they held each other close.

* * *

Bonnie went with them to sign the contract, then to the clinic. Ghost chafed at having to stay still, so Killa played a game with her on their tablet. Once they were allowed to leave, they went to get the condo. The surrogacy contract didn’t work to net them the house yet; Bonnie had to sign as a co-signer.

It took a week to find out that both embryos had implanted. It seemed the judge and her wife were, if all went well, getting twins, after all. They celebrated with sparkling grape juice, popcorn, and an action movie that night at home.

Recovery

Numa was worried. Lily had clean hair and skin, and she ate, mostly mechanically, when given food. But, she was ashen. Her eyes were huge, and she nearly always had tears in her eyes. She stared at her sleeping husband, and stroked his skin. She would get through a TV show or two before falling asleep again. She lost weight, despite the food. Her skin hung off of her. She didn’t read, which had been her previous love.

Numa and Ivy both tried talking to Lily about her brother. Lily would start to tell a story, but then would falter, then forget to finish her story. Most of them were of Lily doing what her alcoholic father should have, like kicking a soccer ball with him, helping him with homework, or baking him a birthday cupcake.

Numa reached out for help to Ava, her friend on the res. “Ya’ll need the Recover from Grief Handbook by Jasper and Frilton. It’s an oldie but goodie. Now, about Lily. It sounds like this poor woman lost two kids. She raised her older brother, which sounds weird. In actual fact, her brother was, to put it bluntly, an idiot who, unfortunately, fell into the same addiction as his father. So, first she raised him, then lost him to drugs and drinking, and then she lost him again to murder. On the same day, she was shot and lost her baby. I actually think she’s doing great. She’s eating and sleeping and showering. She’s healing physically. I hesitate at doing grief work just yet. She’s not ready. On top of everything else, her husband has been shot, directly in front of her, and he is badly damaged.”

“I am absolutely heartbroken, and terrified for her,” said Numa.

“I can understand why,” said Ava. “Now, Ace is doing what he should, drugging himself up and sleeping constantly. He has a broken scapula, and muscle, tendon, and cartilage damage. It is going to take a long time for him to heal. His wife’s older brother was murdered in front of him, and he was shot. Then, he wakes up to find his wife has been shot and his baby has died. His grief is more a lack of control because he couldn’t stop anything. So, he will probably spend time feeling helpless and angry. He’ll hurt over losing his child, but he’ll work through that, from what you’ve told me about him. He will feel especially helpless dealing with his wife, who will be going through grief for one to two years. It’s their decision if, or when to get pregnant again, but she’ll be needing to work through her grief through to acceptance before the baby is born.”

“Can you help them?” asked Numa.

“Absolutely,” said Ava, “I need to meet with them, of course, just briefly to introduce myself. She’ll probably cry through most of our sessions, but that’s quite healthy. Like I said, I think I need to meet them, and set up times to talk. Doing it by phone, online, or face-to-face. Yana can do the night shift, and me the day shift. The idea is to have her feel safe with us, and give her the time and space to hurt and heal.”

“When can you come down?”

“Tomorrow morning. We’ll keep it to ten minutes, unless she wants to unload.”

“Thank you, Ava,” said Numa.

“I’m getting paid,” said Ava. “They both have insurance. But, I will gladly help them.”

Numa told Ace and Lily about Ava, and her “co-pilot” Yana. Both had years as grief counselors, and they worked all over Vegas, not just the Res.

Inola was using Yana to help her process the rape as she grew large with little Ryder, the result of her rape. Inola was worried about visiting Lily and Ace. She didn’t want to make Lily’s grief worse.

Inola called Numa. “I’ll send Bella with Ava,” she said. “I trust her. I’ve talked with her when I couldn’t reach Yana.”

“Good,” said Numa. “Have her be here by nine.”

“Ugh,” said Inola. “You do know Bella’s a night bar back?”

“I do,” said Numa. “She only needs to be here ten minutes.”

“I call bullshit,” said Inola. “She’ll want to stay and hold Lily’s hand.”

“Is that a bad thing?” asked Numa.

“Move it to noon or one,” said Inola, “and, tell me when she’s ready for me to visit.”

“Will do,” said Numa.

“I’ve got a new horse to work with,” said Inola. “She’s a mare, older. Jeffrey loves her.”

“Good luck with that,” said Numa. She called Ava and moved the time to one, then texted both Inola and Bella.

* * *

Bella came early, with sealed containers of corn soup. She was stunned at the lost look in Lily’s violet eyes. She didn’t talk about the bar, or preparing for little Ryder. She just held Lily’s hand, and watched the tears leak from her eyes.

Ava was short, with a round face; short black hair shot with gray in a long braid down her back, and little silver glasses.

“I’m Ava. I’m your grief counselor. My co-pilot, Yana, will answer the phone if I’m off duty. She gets the night shift, and I’m the day shift. If you want her, that’s great.”

“She works with Inola,” said Bella, “and she’s great. I’ve talked to her, too. We’re doing really well.”

“Here’s our number, and Skype,” said Ava. “You can do phone and Skype calls if you don’t want us to come to you. I’ll come here until you feel better, enough to return to work, which won’t be for a long time.”

“I can do the books in bed,” said Lily.

“Later, honey,” said Ace. “We’re on too many drugs now.”

“Okay,” said Lily, “how often do you want to see us?”

“Let’s start with three times a week in person, and you can call or Skype twice a week outside of the face-to-face stuff. Let’s start next week, when you’re feeling a little better, physically. But, call me whenever. If it’s an emergency, or you feel like you’re going to fly apart, be clear about that. We prioritize.”

“How long will this take?” asked Ace.

“Grief is a long process. Most people cycle through the steps of it to acceptance within six months, but it seems to last, in its most potent form, a year to two years.”

“That sucks,” said Ace.

“You’ll cycle through stages, and you’ll probably go to what feels like a backward step. There is no right or wrong way to grieve. The only ‘rule,’ if there is one, is to feel. If you’re numb, feel numb. If you need to cry, do it. If you’re angry, use a squeezy ball.” She handed them out, a yellow one for Lily, a blue one for Ace. “Squeeze your heart out. Then, over time, when you are more physically fit, we’ll start with yoga, and move you into kickboxing for the anger. Physical exercise feels nearly impossible when you’re grieving, and it is a bad idea now, while you’re physically healing. But, it will help you with the emotions. The emotions come in waves, and, no doubt about it, they suck. Feel them, and the grief process goes better. Stuff them, and you turn into a porcupine, stabbing people at random.”

“Spiny people suck,” said Bella.

“Any other questions?” asked Ava.

“Can we keep you in a closet and drag you out when we need you?” asked Ace.

“’Fraid not,” said Ava, smiling. “Sorry. But, you have the phone and Skype. The phone will feel like a three-thousand-pound barbell, even those tiny ones they have now. But, use it. That’s what they’re for.”

“Okay,” said Ace. Lily just looked at her, blankly.

“Lily, you’re zoning out,” said Bella. “Inola still does it. It’s okay, just try to talk about your feelings when you come back.”

“Mmmf,” said Lily, her eyes closed.

“What should I do?” asked Ace, panicked.

“Let her go,” said Bella. “And don’t insist she pay attention. The present moment is too painful, so her mind goes for a walk.”

“What do you need me for?” asked Ava.

Bella snorted. “I’ve been there, done that. Consider me on call too, Ace, except when I’m working. I gotta sling the booze to get our baby situated in the nursery.”

Ava snorted. “Don’t listen to her. Half the res has given them one gift or another. And, they’ll have a half-dozen teenagers on the property ready to babysit, let alone Henry. He’s so excited he could pop.”

“No popping,” said Ace. Bella laughed.

“On that note,” said Ava, “I’ll get out of here. Call. Seriously. It’s my job, and you both have insurance.”

“And don’t read crap online about this,” said Bella. “It’ll scare you unnecessarily.”

“That’s right,” said Ava. “I don’t know why you need me. Bella’s got this down.” She waved, and took off for her hospice work.

“What else?” said Ace.

“Chill. Seriously, dude. Just chill. Grief can’t be sped up.”

“Damn,” he said. “No getting around it.”

“Nope,” said Bella. “Just chill out. Sleep. A lot. Dude, you got shot.”

Ace groaned. “I noticed. It fucking hurts.”

“Then I’ll let you sleep,” she said. “Right now, it’s the best thing for you. And, just so you know, you can’t do Lily’s grief for her. Wish you could. Wish I could steal Inola’s pain. Doesn’t work. Get enough sleep, do what the doctors tell you to. When you’re awake, watch dumb TV. I know reading is hard when you hurt. Watch dumb crap on YouTube. Just don’t think. Let yourself rest. Your wife needs a healthy husband who takes care of himself. And, this is the stupidest advice I can give because you’ll do it anyway, but, don’t worry about your wife. Worrying doesn’t improve anything, and it makes you unable to give her the support she needs. You’ll be tired and snarky from the anxiety, which doesn’t help. She needs a chilled-out dude. And, get a housekeeper when you get home, unless she cleans when she’s mad. Inola doesn’t, but Numa does.”

“Housekeeper. Check. Don’t worry and be happy, check. Now, get the fuck out of here so I can take your advice and get some sleep.” Bella flipped him off. He laughed, and she left.

* * *

Bella put in her shift at Dirty Vegas. Ivy was back, and Cougar was now doing the books and slinging booze. They took a massive liquor order. Despite the beginning of fall —elsewhere, Vegas really didn’t have fall. The tourists hadn’t slowed coming in to drink and dance with bikers. The bucket to pay for whatever the insurance didn’t pay for (to help Lily and Ace), got full fast; Ivy drew it out twice a night, and she deposited half into Ace’s account and half into Lily’s. Ivy took care of their bills; their dogs had joined the happy Daisy in their apartment. Grace and Hu loved walking them.

Bella noticed a change in Ivy. There was an undercurrent of anger in her. She loved to dance to angry songs, and girl-power ones, too. The band noticed, and played a lot more Guns N’ Roses and Lita Ford. Ivy sang Lita’s songs. The booze flowed, along with the tips. Part of their tips went to Ace and Lily’s get-well fund, which were labeled buckets on both bars.

Bella was nervous. Inola was getting huge, but wouldn’t stop riding horses. She promised to stick to the gentle mares. But, Bella still worried. So, she decided to talk to Henry. He could give guidance to both of them. She let go of her worry, using a breathing technique, and slung more booze.

She made it home alive, despite being tired. She slipped up her stairs. She loved them… her own private, spiral staircase. She entered, closed the door behind her, took off her boots and leathers, then shucked her clothes into the hamper. She took a shower, especially since her wife hated the smell of liquor. She dried off, then slid into bed, sporting a brand-new queen-sized memory foam mattress. Inola was on her side, hands draped over her stomach. Bella laid down next to Inola, smelling grass, and horse, and sunshine. She put her arm across Inola and felt the rounded bump pressing against her. Inola grasped her hand, and Bella slid into sleep.

Inola woke up early, and slid out from under her wife’s arm. She stood, stretched, and went to empty her bladder. She headed out to feed and let out the horses, ponies, and burro. She was delighted; she no longer had to muck out stalls. The herd of teens did that. They were on their third round. Nantan had helpers again. Tito had four new apprentices; his last ones were now full-time.

Sister was laughing, a wonderful sound to Inola’s ears. Inola ate an amazing breakfast of fat sausages, biscuits with butter and honey, and cheesy eggs. She took a sealed cup of coffee out to the meadow. Jeffrey was already getting the new horse used to being near people; simply walking the horse, a gorgeous gray, around the ring. Inola sipped her decaf, and smiled. The sunlight was still white, not quite fading to yellow just yet.

Henry joined her at the fence. “We have to talk,” he said.

“You can drink coffee,” said Inola. “Real coffee. I hate you, right now.”

He snorted. “Well, you still must listen. Bella is worried. I can see it on her face.”

Inola looked down at her cup. “My riding.”

“I know this is like cutting off your arm, but she has a point,” he said. “One fall…”

Inola sighed. “I don’t feel fat and ungainly on a horse.”

Henry snorted. “You are beautiful. I know your wife tells you so. So, get over it. Keep little Ryder safe.”

Inola nodded. “I hate this.”

“Just a few more months,” said Henry. “Then, Ryder will be here.”

“Yes,” said Inola. “He will.”

Fox came over. Her name was also Inola, but she went by the Paiute meaning of her name. “Mucked out the stalls,” Fox said. “I want to work with the skittish horse.”

“No problem,” said Inola. “Get Ouray and do it with her.”

“Good,” said Fox. “I’ll be right back.”

Fox had a flat face and bright black eyes, and Ouray had a round face and a bright smile.

“Ladies, take turns walking Smoke there. Walk her slow. Use a calm tone and a gentle hand.”

“Got it,” said Fox. And, she did. Those bright eyes missed nothing.

Henry came out again. “That one’s another Jeffrey,” he said, about Fox. " He looked at Ouray, who was known as Arrow. “Arrow there is like her name, one-pointed in her thinking. Means if there’s something wrong in her head, she’ll keep pointing to it.”

“And there’s a lot of falsehood in her head,” said Inola.

“Lots,” said Henry, “she thinks she is ungainly and stupid, and neither are true. She must not go back to her mother. Her mother’s tongue is a knife.”

“No kidding,” said Inola. “We’ll keep them both, I think. Once the baby comes, we’ll need all the help we can get! Ouray, our Arrow, is great with the rabbits. They need some consistency, I think. Having at least one that loves them all the time will be good, too.”

“Yes,” said Henry.

“Be careful,” said Inola. “Or, Aquene and Bianca will steal her to work with the baby goats.”

“I’m not expanding their house,” said Henry. “Tito says he won’t either, and that he’s so busy he needs clones.”

Inola laughed. “We’ve got plenty to help him,” said Inola.

Alo, another of their new Wolfpack, was Hopi, and he was strong and kind. She found him putting beets in the shredder to make horse feed. He had short straight hair and glasses.

“Inola,” he said. “I’ve got the feed mix. If I can get this right, I can get a recipe that will work for most horses. You would just have to alter it for the size of the horse.”

“If you get that right, you and Nantan can grow feed and make good money all over the place.” Inola smiled at him.

He smiled back. “If I can get it right for sheep, goats, and alpacas…”

“And rabbits,” said Inola.

“And rabbits,” said Alo, “then I can be useful here. My mom, she died, and my aunt has four others, all boys that eat like that Shadow, there.” He waved in the general direction of the paddock. Shadow, the horse, had been neglected; he ate as much as they could safely feed him.

Inola laughed. “Like all twelve of you do. We stuffed you in the dorms to the rafters.”

He laughed. “It’s fine. Our pods are cool. And, we all have our special spots. Catori likes the rafters,” he said, pointing up. “She likes to take her phone up there and read books. Dena likes to walk everywhere, and run when she can.”

“I noticed,” said Inola. “Girl runs like the wind.”

“Helaku likes to make stuff. Nantan is teaching him how to put together the hydroponics kits. They’re making ones out of pallets. He’s in making-stuff heaven. His mom tried to take me in, but she lost her house last year. She’s got a job in a convenience store, now, but it’s a lot easier without having to feed him.”

“He may do well with Tito. He has a side business rehabbing, and you’ll do work with him, probably starting this weekend. In fact, Helaku can help with rehabbing Ghost and Killa’s new condo. I think Ruby would like it, too. She’s good with building rabbit hutches.”

“Rabbit condos, Henry calls ‘em,” said Alo. “Kinda true. Anyway, Willow’s spot is anywhere Nantan is. She wants to learn everything hydroponics, and Jacy does whatever Willow does.”

“That boy needs a hobby other than Willow,” said Inola.

Alo laughed. “Probably won’t happen. He’s in love. Can’t eat or sleep unless he talks to her at least three times a day.”

“They go at it like the bunnies in the hut, I’ll throw them out,” said Inola. “They can hold back for three months until they both turn eighteen.”

Alo laughed and snorted at the same time. “I’ll warn them,” he said. “Yas has his eye on Alicia, and they both love every single animal here. I told them both to look at scholarships. They both need to go to vet school.”

“I agree,” said Inola. “Henry’s got them finishing up their high school courses on full throttle.”

“Have no idea about Yoki, Lena, and Elu. Those three love to talk, but they don’t really say much.”

Inola laughed. “True. They’re scared more than stupid, though,” said Inola. “They don’t know what they like, or what they want to do. That’s part of why they’re here, why you’re all here. You all are finding out what you want to do.”

“Yanaba and Gwen can code,” said Alo. “Henry is making the Three Gigglers learn it too.”

Inola laughed. “Hate to say it, but The Three Gigglers is kind of accurate.”

Henry came into the barn. “Got that recipe, Alo?” he asked. “No point in growing our own food if we can’t feed the horses.”

“And ponies, and rabbits, and…” said Inola.

“One feed mix at a time,” said Henry.

“Yes,” said Alo.

“Let me see your recipe,” said Henry. He looked it over. “Looks good,” he said, and handed back the tablet.

“I already approved it, and ran it by three vets,” said Inola.

“If we get a good mix, we can sell it,” said Henry.

“One horse at a time,” said Inola.

She did paperwork, and conversed with several other horse rescue societies. She found two Free to Good Home ads for goats, and emailed the particulars to Bianca. She made sure all the horses had all their immunizations, and went back to the house to wake up her wife.

Bella accepted kisses. “Guess what?” said Inola.

“We have free tickets to the moon colony?”

Inola laughed. “Seems that you have been reading sci-fi again.”

“Absolutely,” said Bella, taking Inola into her arms.

“Henry and I agreed that I can’t ride until Ryder is born.”

“Woo hoo!” said Bella. She kissed Inola, hard.

“Slow down,” said Inola. “I gave up what I like to do most. What are you giving up?”

“Sleep for the next eighteen years,” said Bella, kissing Inola again.

Inola laughed. “So am I.”

“I’m not giving up sex,” said Bella.

Inola kissed Bella’s neck. “Neither am I.”

Bella took off Inola’s shirt. “Ooh,” she said, looking at Inola’s breasts. “More for me to love and enjoy.”

Inola laughed. She undid her bra, and her breasts spilled out. Bella caught them, and kissed each one thoroughly. Inola gasped, then groaned.

“Pregnant is sexy,” said Bella.

“Yes, I am,” said Inola, and moaned again as Bella licked the tip of one breast, then another.

Inola finally got Bella’s sleep shirt off her, and returned the favor. Bella entwined her fingers in Inola’s hair, and stroked her breasts. She arched her back and moaned.

Bella propped Inola up on pillows, being careful to support her back. She rubbed Inola’s feet, making her groan. She kissed her way up Inola’s thighs, and kissed the rounded belly.

“Hello, Ryder,” said Bella. “Mama wants you to go to sleep, now.” She kissed Inola’s stomach.

Inola laughed. “Mommy says go to sleep,” she said, touching her stomach. “Good, no kicking,” said Inola.

Bella kissed down each of Inola’s thighs. She stroked her button, making her shake, then come in a great, rolling wave. Bella put her fingers inside Inola, and she pushed her head back against the pillow. Bella leaned forward and kissed her button, then put her tongue inside. She flicked her tongue in and out, while still going in and out with her fingers. Inola came again, and again.

Once Inola stopped juddering, she held Bella. “That was amazing,” she said. “Your turn.”

She pulled Bella to her, kissing her deeply. She nibbled Bella’s neck while cupping one of her breasts, then used her fingers to make Bella moan, stroking the breast, then kissing her way down. She made Bella moan, sucking one breast, then the other. She ran her fingers down, putting them inside, feeling her wetness. Bella put her fingers back inside Inola, and they both came together. They laid there, gasping.

Bella helped Inola stand up, and led her to the bathroom. Bella turned on the shower, and pulled Inola in. Bella washed Inola, and Inola washed Bella. They kissed each other. Bella stroked Inola’s back, and dug her thumbs into her lower back; Inola groaned with pleasure.

Bella dried Inola, and Inola dried what on Bella she could reach. Bella dried her own hair first, then dried Inola’s hair and braided it.

They kissed, and Inola smiled. “Lunch,” she said.

“Get a woman knocked up, and she becomes hungry twenty-four-seven,” said Bella. Inola shoved her. “Hey!” said Bella. “You’re not enhancing my calm.”

Inola smirked, put her makeup on, then her jeans and shirt, and walked down the stairs. Bella followed, dressed in her bar clothes, black jeans and an Aerosmith T-shirt. They sat down to a delicious chicken sandwich lunch, with potatoes and salad. Bella kissed her goodbye, and then went off to find her Harley.

“Hunts require hunters and quarries… and paths to follow.”